Intrinsical (19 page)

That idea comforted me slightly, but my heart was hit with a sudden tidal wave of pain as I thought of my poor parents and sister having to deal with another loss, burying another member of the family. They didn’t deserve that. I buried my head in my hands and finally allowed myself ten minutes to cry and curse at the heavens. Anger, grief, and tears ruled me. And I let them.

After my allotted time I took a deep breath and found it odd that I still felt the need to breathe.

“
I think it’s habit,” Brent explained. “Your mind says you need to breathe, so you do. We have a pulse, we cry— and, thanks to you, I can tell we still blush. It’s almost like muscle memory and phantom limbs. But your all-important heart no longer beats.”

A quiet thump-thump played in the silence. “But your heart is still beating. I can hear it.”

His fingers went to the left side of his chest, checking. “It does, faintly, like it’s miles away.”

“
Does that mean that I’m right that—”

“
It doesn’t mean anything,” Brent said, cutting me off. He rubbed his chin. “You timed out how long you were going to wallow?” Brent’s face was incredulous as he shook his head. He hadn’t moved from the fountain, he was leaning forward, his arms resting on his legs. “Grief doesn’t work that way. You know that, right?”

“
It does for me,” I replied defiantly, wiping the remaining tears from my face.

“
If you say so.”

“
What’s to grieve? We’re going to fix this,” I said, inhaling deeply the crisp night air.

I could almost taste the oranges, the avocados, even the flowers. I knew, without a doubt, somewhere on the other side of campus, chrysanthemums were still blooming. In amazement, I looked around, trying to gauge if I could pinpoint the directions of the smells. I could. It was similar to how aware I had been of everything when I projected, but much stronger.

Even though it was nighttime, I could see every detail and every color that surrounded me. Everything was so vivid and intense that I gasped at the beauty of my surroundings, as if seeing it for the first time. Nothing was one simple hue, but made up of subtle shades, highlights, and lowlights. I thought I had appreciated it before, but I realized my human senses had been too limited to recognize its true brilliance.

I sank onto a bench overhung by the branches of a maple tree. Its leaves blazed with color that could have inspired a sonnet; I wished I were a poet and could capture its beauty in words. Heartbeats of the young birds in a nest in the top of the tree made their way to my ears, bringing a smile to my lips.

“
It is kind of amazing, isn’t it?” Brent asked.

I nodded distractedly. “Okay, so let’s work on our plan,” I said, putting my problem-solving cap back on. “There’s this really great bookstore down the street from my old school. It should have everything we need to know about astral projection.”

“
Well, that would be great if we could get there,” Brent said grimly.

“
Can’t we just, like, appear there?”

Brent shook his head. “No, we aren’t genies.”

“
Walk there?”

“
No can do.”

I let out a puff of frustrated air that lifted my bangs from my forehead. “Why not?”

“
Well, we can’t leave Pendrell.”

“
Why?” I questioned, feeling suddenly confined. I had never liked rules, and it irritated me that there were still rules even when I was dead.

“
I wish I had the answers for you, but all I know is we can’t leave.”

“
Is that a fact?” I raised my eyebrows in defiance. “Well, we’ll see about that.” I took off running as fast as I could toward the edge of campus. The wind and speed invigorating me with each step I took. Brent was next to me, jogging backward, easily keeping pace.

“
You know, I really don’t suggest trying this.”

“
I have to find out for myself. I just can’t accept this on your word alone. You have to at least know that much about me.”

“
I do,” he said ducking under a thick branch. “But it’s extremely painful.”

“
Maybe for you, but it might not be for me. You can’t be sure.” I continued my sprint and tried to push aside the worry his warning had caused me.

“
Maybe not,” he said warily, “But I still advise against it. Don’t be stupid.”

“
I have to know for myself,” I explained, halting at the driveway that marked the edge of school.

He groaned. “Why?”

I bit my lip. “Here goes.”

“
Wait, Yara,” he said, tugging on my arm. “Please, just listen to me.”

I hesitated for a moment then cackled. “What, am I going to die again?”

“
No . . .” he started, but before he could finish I flung myself with all the energy I had toward the other side of the driveway.

With a pain so severe it blinded me, I was hurled backward. I landed on the ground and skidded a few feet. It felt like every bone in my body had snapped, and that my internal organs were twisted and mutilated. If I had been alive, I was sure I would have died, leaving only a pile of gore on the driveway. I opened my eyes and the world around me undulated in harsh, blinding and over-sharp movements, making me dizzy. Sprawled on the ground, I was afraid to even try to move. Tears rained down my face, vanishing before they could wet the ground. Even their slow movement across my skin hurt. Fearing the rise and fall of my chest would be too much, I held my breath. When I finally took a breath, it felt like a jagged knife in my ribs. I sobbed in self-pity, longing for death before remembering it had already come.

My eyes darted toward Brent just as he winced. “Sympathy pains,” he explained with a shrug.

Shame pulsed through me when I realized he was suffering right along with me. Despite the sting I knew I would feel, I opened my mouth to speak. “Can you block it out?”

“
No, it won’t let me.” He grimaced. “You don’t have to speak with your words, Yara.”

I’m sorry
, I thought.

“
I know,” he spoke into my mind. Brent stayed by my side whistling lullabies and talking about nothing at all, trying to distract me. The sun rose and was high in the sky by the time the pain eased enough for me to stand.

My knees buckled as I tried to get to my feet.

“
Take it easy,” Brent suggested, helping me up and slinging my arm around his shoulder.

“
I have to get away from here. I don’t think I can stand to dwell on my own stupidity any longer,” I said, as he turned us and began walking us slowly up the driveway. “So, you were right.”

“
I was pretty sure I would be,” he said without sounding arrogant. With each step toward the Headmaster’s garden I felt my strength returning. The place was starting to feel like home.

“
You’ve done that before.”

“
More than once,” he said in a knowing voice.

“
I would think once is enough,” I shuddered at the thought of ever having to experience that again.

“
The Phil thing really freaked me out.”

“
It must have been awful to be willing to endure that twice.” I shivered. “So it looks like we’re stuck here. Why?”

“
I don’t know, but it could be worse.” He readjusted his grip on me.

“
How? Maybe a bad case of food poisoning?”

“
We could be alone.”

My stomach tumbled like an Olympic gymnast. “Yeah, that would be a lot worse,” I agreed, stealing a peek of him from the corner of my eye.

Somewhere between two steps my spirit recovered. I pushed from Brent’s arms and twirled in a circle, giddy because there was no more pain, feeling free.

“
I can see you’re feeling better,” Brent commented, leaning against a tree trunk with his arms folded.

“
I do. I have all this pent-up energy; let’s do something.” I flashed him a smile to help convince him.

“
We could play volleyball,” he offered. “There shouldn’t be students there now.”

“
The dead play volleyball?”

“
Well
I
can, but I think I’ll have to teach you how.”

“
I know how to play,” I said icily.

“
I wasn’t trying to be demeaning,” he said taking a step back in case I felt the need to elbow him. “It’s just you haven’t learned to move things yet.” I thought back to my attempt to move the leaves on the tree and nodded in understanding.

“
Can you teach me?” I asked.

For a moment he studied me hard looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. “Yes, I think I can. Besides,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me toward the P.E. building, “it might be vital for you to learn. You’re going to have to defend yourself when the mist comes for us.”

“
What do you think he wants with me?” I asked, my palms suddenly sweaty.

“
I’m not sure”

We walked in a heavy silence until we arrived at the volleyball sand pits. Several balls were still out, and without bending over, Brent stuck his hand out, palm down. A ball flew up to it.

“
How did you do that? Are you actually holding it?”

He waggled his eyebrows as he smiled. “Well, I can feel it, but I can’t quite make contact with it.” He then made the ball bounce up and down in his hand. “Yet I can command it to do what I want it to, like a puppet with invisible strings. Catch!”

I ducked as the ball zoomed toward me. He laughed,

“
Oh, come on. I know you aren’t a practitioner of organized sports, but even if you catch like a girl, the ball wasn’t going to hurt you. You’re a ghost, remember?”

“
Old habits die hard.” The ball had rolled into a tangled, thorny bush, its white only barely visible.

“
Now, you try it,” Brent said as he moved the ball so it lay in front of my feet.

I stuck my hand out like Brent had, staring at the ball, concentrating and biting my bottom lip. Nothing. It didn’t so much as vibrate. I tried it again and again and again. Still nothing.

“
You have to visualize it doing what you want it to.”

Focusing on the ball, I pictured it rising up to my open palm. The ball twitched slightly. I put even more mental energy into visualizing it. It flopped on the ground like a floundering trout.

“
Yara, it’s a little like faith. You can have no doubt that the object will obey you.”

Biting harder on my lip, I pictured the ball again and tried to believe it would obey me. For an instant it lifted. A squeal of delight escaped my mouth and I did a dance of joy that may have included some really outdated moves. A proud smile spread across Brent’s face as he commented, “You’re picking it up pretty quickly.”

He might have been stroking my ego, but I didn’t care. In repeat attempts, I wasn’t able to get the ball to move any higher, but I was able to recreate its small rise into the air.

“
Let’s try this,” Brent said, throwing the ball at me. “Hit it back.”

Instead of ducking, I moved my arm through the air, picturing the ball soaring back to Brent. While the ball didn’t go that far, it did change course. After several tries, I was able to actually hit it all the way back to him and then he volleyed it back to me. I wasn’t able to create the motion, but I could redirect something already moving. I hoped that would change with more practice.

Eventually, Brent sat down with a huge smile and ran his fingers through the sand. Following his example, I was surprised by the tickling sensation of its rough texture. The sun had begun to set and I leaned back on the sand to watch. I had been so absorbed in our game, I hadn’t noticed that we had been here all day. The blazing palate of colors was breathtaking: red, pink, purple, and yellow. We sat in a silence disturbed only by a distant woodpecker as the most brilliant canopy of stars I had ever seen replaced the sunset.

The night was dark, but around us everything grew an even deeper black. Out of the corner of my right eye, I thought I saw something glide past. A familiar feeling of dread encompassed me as the temperature plummeted. The mist was creeping toward us, outlines of individual beings swirling inside it, their faces set in horrible grimaces. Scuttling like an awkward crab I tried to back away. A heaviness settled over me, making it hard to move, impossible to speak.

From the mist, a spear-like tendril slithered toward us, aiming for me. I feigned to the right as it shot toward me but it wasn’t fooled, and managed to stab me in the shoulder. Its point pierced me and an icy cold laced my shoulder, and warmed quickly to a burn that seeped deep into me. My hands wound around the inky tentacle and yanked it out. I screamed as blue liquid flowed from the ugly black wound.